Better or worse?
by spacemonkey13
Summary: Jane can't help but wonder if her being in Maura's life is a good thing or a bad thing. And with introspection comes verbalized questions and a speech that is nothing quite like what one would expect from a certain female Boston detective.


Author's Note: Short one-shot. My first foray into Rizzoli and Isles that _isn't_ influenced by personal s***. Pardon the mix of tenses. It's 1 in the morning, I'm supposed to be working on s*** I brought home from the office—but am obviously not, so…. Just had to get this one out. Sorry. Bear with me please.

Also, ever experienced writing a story with this single prevailing thought or idea in your head, only for it to end up being totally different when finally put into words? Well, that's precisely what happened to this one. Again, my apologies.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except the hunch that this season's finale might very well throw us fans for a huge loop (especially the Rizzles clan).

 _He has taken everything, there's nothing left to take!_

 _Stupid_ , she can't help but think whenever she remembers. She should've known better. It should have clued her in when it was obvious the entire bloody time that her physical harm was not the objective. Burning her house when she was hardly in it, if they wanted her dead they could've targeted her car, the police station, Maura's house obviously, the Dirty Robber—HELL, even the morgue. They hacked into her account but took NONE of her money. So if it wasn't her, and it wasn't some-THING, the next logical step was to go for WHO, right?

But, no! Nope. She didn't think _that_ was the next logical step. What was wrong with her?

Knowing what she did at the time, the detective can't help but continue her trail of thinking, inwardly going over the same thoughts again and again, blaming herself for missing so much that it gave the perp the opportunity to nab her best friend.

Was it obvious to everyone but herself that _everything_ is equivalent to her best friend?

Speaking of her best friend, Jane spares a look at the woman beside her on the couch.

Dr. Maura Isles. She can't quite place the exact time but she remembers Frankie warning her, "I think you're putting her on top of a freakin' pedestal, Jane. A real tall one by the looks of it." And of course she recalls scoffing and shooting back with "Not that I am, Frankie, but if—and that is IF—I were placing her on top of one, you don't think she deserves it? We're talking about Maura here, Frankie. Maura."

Her friend did not deserve to be part of some sick twisted game of revenge just to get even with a blue-collar Italian detective.

She didn't deserve to be involved with anything that could taint the goodness inside her.

Perhaps she didn't deserve to be involved with the likes of her. Period.

"Is something wrong, Jane?"

Maura's words startle the detective out of her thoughts and only then does she realize that her fists are clenched, somewhat covered by the blanket that Maura absentmindedly threw over their laps when they settled on the couch earlier.

Of course she's still staring and when Jane focuses her gaze, she notes that the doctor looked worried.

The brunette sighs in resignation.

"Jane?" Now her tone also sounded worried.

"You shouldn't worry about me so much, Maura." It the first thing that comes out of her mind when what she wanted to really start with was something along the lines of "Good night, Maura" and maybe never show her face again.

A hand appears in her line of sight, settling on top of her blanket-covered thigh.

Looking up, Jane reconsiders her last thought and inwardly scoffs, knowing that the doctor was likely to chase her down.

"Why do you say that?"

And the hurt look on Maura's face...

Was Jane really the problem here?

A sigh is all she emits as a reply. That and a hand on top of the good doctor's.

-x-x-x-

At first, she thinks Jane is going to clam up once again. Her best friend—much as she loves her—is a fan of closing herself off to the rest of the world. As if no one is allowed see her lick her wounds when she came in hurting and bloody in more ways than one. Sometimes, Maura can honestly say that she even lies awake at night wondering if her detective is able to sleep peacefully. It's something to be expected especially when she's much aware that her best friend had a particularly "bad" day at work.

"I was thinking that I need to get as far away from you as possible."

Maura is surprised to say the least, not expecting a reply from the detective.

Until her words fully sink in.

"What?" she croaks.

Then, it's as if something snaps Jane out of her stupor when she catches sight of the look on her face.

"No! I mean. I was thinking about it, Maur. WAS!"

Maura stills and ponders on what Jane just said.

"You thought about it though. Why?" The last word is spoken so softly, as if still reeling from the pain of such an idea.

No. She IS still reeling from the mere idea.

Jane leaving? Without her? How? Why?

The brunette shrugs and the other woman is tempted to "sock" her one in the arm in frustration.

"Because I was thinking I'm no good for you. That I've brought you nothing but trouble since we met and became friends, best friends even more so."

Jane looks back up and almost laughed at the perplexed expression on the other's face.

"I don't even know how to begin to answer that sort of question—and with that reasoning too! Jane!"

She rolls her eyes. Well at least the _soundness_ of her argument took the hurt look off of her face. Wait, was _soundness_ even a word? Dammit. If Maura doesn't poke a stick at it immediately, she guesses she should look it up for future reference and all that.

"Maura! Calm down. I said, _was_ , alright? That's gotta count for something. And obviously, I wasn't thinking clearly so…cut me some slack, wilya?"

"I still don't get how you came to such a conclusion. I mean I can infer on your thought process but the probability of it being genuine lends a certain margin for error. A wide one supposedly except somehow, I know you and I understand you. But this one admittedly takes the pie, Jane."

Great, Jane can't help but think once she saw Maura cross her arms. This had the potential to drag on to morning if she lets her.

"First off, it's cake. _Takes the cake._ Not pie. And second, forget my thought process or whatever. Bottomline is I thought of it at first, but now I'm over it. So there."

A beat.

"Would you really leave me, Jane?"

Oh boy. Dammit.

"No. No, Maura. I'm never leaving you, okay? It's just—"

"Will you promise me?"

Jane is taken aback. "What?"

"Can you promise me that you won't leave, ever?"

"Aw, Maur. You know that as much as I want to, I can't. You know that."

Maura shrugs.

"Maura, the fact alone that if your life depended on me leaving you…I would do it and I'm not going to make you a promise I'm likely to break. I'm sorry but I would, Maura. It would hurt like a bitch believe me, but I'll do it. I would rather be lonely without you, alive, than without you…as in dead."

-x-x-x-x-

Jane clears her throat, hoping to get the words out of her mouth finally.

"When you went missing…" sometimes she still gets all choked up on the memory of those hours that felt like days, with a blend of weeks, months, and years thrown in somewhere.

"When you went missing, it felt like hell, Maur. It felt like nothing I thought I'd ever experience in this life. I know you hated how cavalier I acted that time—about my safety, I mean. But that's just it. You saw the pile of threats I got, this year alone. I felt that I had signed up for this shit. There's no room for complaint. There's no room for fear and regret. I signed up for the possibility that someone, somewhere, someday was not going to be too happy with me precisely because I was doing my job right."

Jane reaches out for Maura's hand and encloses It in her slightly lengthier one.

"And I was prepared. I was still scared somewhat, yes. But it didn't take away the fact that I felt like I could face that sonofabitch head on and still win it."

She squeezes the hand in hers. "But he changed the rules of the game and took you instead. Maura...if you feel a fraction of what I did then for every time I go out…shit. You really are the strongest person I know."

"All of a sudden you were missing, and I didn't know where to start looking for you. All of a sudden it seemed like I was unsure of _everything_. It hurt, Maur. And beneath all the facts of the case that I committed to memory, I distinctly remember thinking every time we'd hit a dead end in the search that you wouldn't be in that position if I wasn't a part of your life. You'd be safe."

"It would be boring." Maura interjects.

Jane nods. "Boring, but safe."

"I can quote you on what you told your mom when she mentioned the same thing."

"Let's not. Just…just let me try to get all of these out, okay Maur?"

Maura nods appreciating the fact that it's a rare thing for her best friend to have spoken in such a lengthy manner as she has done so far. Not to mention, in a capacity where she was part of the subject.

"Frankie was right when he told me before that I have a tendency of putting you on top of a pedestal." The confused look on Maura's face was Jane's answer.

"It's usually because you're honestly—honestly, Maura—the best person I know. I don't think I place you on a pedestal. I think some time before we even met, you were already there. I mean, I doubt it's because of "habit" that you still refuse to lie despite the fact you now could if you wanted to. You love to shop like the economy's supply and demand will cease to function if you stopped spending. But I also know that you love to regularly go through your items and personally donate them to those who are less fortunate. Your capacity to love and accept people, regardless of who they were, are, or might be…it's just…sometimes it makes me wonder how I ended up having a best friend like you—if I even deserve you."

Maura opens her mouth to interject but Jane cuts her off.

"You took ma in and gave her a place to stay just like that," Jane snaps her fingers for emphasis, "and you love her like she's family. Your capacity to love, Maura, to love just about anyone and anything…it's staggering. And I know I suck at showing the same."

Maura shakes her head but Jane waves her hand to stall her off from contradicting.

"I tend to take for granted how much you've changed from when we first met till now. That was part of my mistake. And I'm so sorry, Maur. So sorry."

Jane shifts closer.

"You reach out to me and I either push you away or I crack a joke. You insist to stay and stand by me and I insist on walking out. You tell me your thoughts and I hardly share mine, do I?"

Maura is somewhat afraid to move, afraid to burst the bubble that is causing Jane to open up tonight.

Jane looks at her closely, cocks her head slightly to the left and a small painful smile emerges, "Even now, you are worried, wary...scared that this moment will be over soon enough."

The detective looks down for a beat, and when she returns her gaze back onto Maura, it's one filled with determination. For what exactly, Maura can only guess—except she doesn't.

"I can't promise that I'll never leave you, Maur. You and I both know more than most that in my line of work...and every day may very well be a surprise waiting to happen. You can't make that same promise either. What I _can_ do is promise you this: every time I go out, every time we part ways for the day, for the hour, for a moment, I promise you that i will do everything _humanly_ possible to come back to you."

Somehow, amidst the lengthy spiel Jane has delivered, Jane's arm has found itself around her, by the back of the couch, while the other is holding one of Maura's hands.

The arm around Maura shifts to tuck a wayward strand of hair away from her face and Jane found herself wondering if it were possible to get any closer.

Strand of hair properly tucked away, Jane brings that same hand to cradle the side of Maura's face and the detective could've sworn Maura nuzzled her head closer towards her touch. _Hers_.

"And from now on, I also promise you that I'm done taking _this_ for granted, Maur. What you and I have...it's too much sometimes, but it's also damn well too precious to let go of. This, right here, this is what I promise you I'm done brushing off."

Jane suddenly feels nervousness settling in and struggles to push the last few words she needs in order to start working on her next set of promises—promises that she hopes shall pave the way to start making it up to the other woman.

"All these years you've always been the one to take a gamble by reaching out first, regardless of how much of an ass I've responded in return. But Maur, now it's my turn. And I can only hope you'll allow me to make it up to for as long as it takes to treat you the way you truly deserve..."

Jane leans her head closer, brushing the tip of her nose softly, gently against Maura's...

"...even if it takes the rest of our lives," Jane whispers just as she closes the distance between them. Finally.


End file.
